Tracer Bullet and the Case of the Missing Apples
by Geriatric Yoda
Summary: When two of Miss Wormwood's "apples" go missing in a Maths question, can Tracer Bullet save the day? Please R&R, as I am thinking on carrying on in the C&H genre.


Tracer Bullet and the Case Missing Apples

**It was Monday. It was Maths. And Calvin was BORED. Why couldn't school be something that happened to other _people_? Was the world so cruel as to place him in yet another term of never-ending grief and misery, when he could be at home, playing with Hobbes and generally goofing off?**

**            "_Class_?" The voice of Miss Wormwood, his wrinkly arch-nemesis of education snapped in that drawling way that set Calvin's teeth on edge. "Would you please tell me _this_…if I had _seven _apples, and a man came and took _two_, how many would I have left…?"**

**            She was going to turn to Calvin for the answer, but was none too surprised to find his head drooped on his desk.**

**            She sighed. "Somebody _else_, then?"**

**                                                                                    ~***~**

**Psst! Hey, _psst_! Over here! Yeah, that's right, I want to talk to _you_, not _him_, not that old man over the road, and _definitely_ not that girl by the street corner.**

**            The name's Bullet – _Tracer_ Bullet – I'm a Private Eye. I work alone, unless you count my two buddies Colt and Malt. I've been lying easy, but recently this real grouchy dame (you know the kind, face like a constipated bulldog?) well, she's come to me with a case that I really should've turned down. _Petty Theft_. About as petty as they come, if you ask me…**

**            You see, this crank was walking home with seven apples in her hand – yeah, that's right, I said _hand_. Not both, just _one_. Big hands, huh?**

**            Anyway, I'm straying…this lady was walking home, when she's _mugged_. In broad daylight…**

**            But here lies the puzzler. _This dope only took two of the apples_. I don't suppose you know why…?**

**                                                                                    ~***~**

**You couldn't really _blame_ Miss Wormwood for sending Calvin to the Principal (for the umpteenth hundred time, need I add?). She _had _tried to be reasonable, but Calvin had slept through the remainder of the _entire_ Maths lesson, totally missing the answer (which was _five_).**

**            Grumpily, face red with a mix of anger and humiliation, Calvin stomped off to the Office he was all too familiar with.**

**            After waiting a moment of two, he summoned up his courage and knocked…**

**                                                                                    ~***~**

**It seemed the man I questioned _did_ know why the crook just two apples…the reason mostly resting on the fact that it was _he _that had committed the crime. With a growl of animal rage suitable for a rabid kangaroo, he leapt on me, pinning my arms behind my back, and tap-danced on my head with brass knuckles…**

**            I woke up later grumpy and confused. Why all this violence over two measly apples? Then I opened my eyes. Maybe this cigar-puffing Suit would cast some light on this whole blitz?**

**~***~**

**The Principal eyed Calvin with a mix of disdain and ever-lasting patience. "We _seem_ to be meeting you a lot, Calvin," he murmured, using a peaceful manner.**

**            "Look, all I want to know is _this_," Calvin stated, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. "_Why take two apples_?!"**

**            Whatever the Principal had been expecting from Calvin _this _time, it was most definitely _not _this little out burst. "I-I – _what_?"**

**            "_Why_ two apples?" Calvin asked flatly. "Was one apple too easy, and three too hard? _Why_?"**

**            "I-I – I have _no_ idea whatsoever…are you saying Miss Wormwood sent you up here to ask me about a _Maths _question?" The Principal was perplexed, was _he _losing it, or was Miss Wormwood?**

**            "Listen, what goes on within your ranks is your _own_ business," Calvin told him manner-of-factly. "_I _just do what I'm told to do, OK?"**

**            "O-O – yes, well, if that is all, then I see no further reason to postpone you…you-you may _return _to your work…"**

**~***~**

**After I chewed him out a bit, the Boss realised the error of his ways, handed over the two apples, and gave safe passage from his territory, with a sincere apology to the dame.**

**            I handed the dame back her apples, making her miserable-looking five into a bounteous-looking _seven_. In return, she handed me a greenback, and retreated out of my door, and out of my life.**

**                                                                                    ~***~**

**Calvin picked up his green Maths test paper with awful dismay. "An _'F?!'_" He exclaimed at Miss Wormwood. "Why, after all I've done for you! I _told you _there were five apples left over, didn't I?"**

**            "After a visit to the Principal, yes," Miss Wormwood agreed dryly. "In which time it was too late… And now, children, to Science! Today, we are studying the planets…"**

**            But it was too late, for fearless Spaceman Spiff was already off, adventuring through the cosmos, to boundaries unknown…**

**THE END**


End file.
